


Tattoos, Memories, Sympathy

by AngelCourts



Category: FNAF, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: ? - Freeform, Bugs & Insects, Canon-Typical Violence, Elizabeth afton - Freeform, FNAF 3 - Freeform, Gen, Implied Child Death, Mild Gore, Slice of Life, fnaf au, mcdonalds :), she's only like vaguely mentioned tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26709952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelCourts/pseuds/AngelCourts
Summary: Springtrap's got bugs bro!! And Vannie's trying to figure out if it's ok to sympathize with a serial killer or not.
Kudos: 12





	Tattoos, Memories, Sympathy

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda just an example of how Springtrap and Vannie would interact in my au + a little au lore.  
> [Important Note] it's p obvious, but I still wanted to make it clear that Vannie uses they/them pronouns!!
> 
> Follow me @stocourt [ig] or @sto-court [tumblr] for more au stuff +art <33 
> 
> Kudos and comments are super appreciated :3

Once soft, golden fur now mangy, and caked in long dried blood, poked at the decaying wall against Springtrap's back. He had gotten used to being alone. All those years of isolation and rotting in what had become his tomb made him mad, and bitter. Now that he had something-someone to wait for, the days trapped inside the walls of the abandoned pizzeria felt longer than ever. He traced the blood stain around where he sat like he had done a million times before. It was a deep brown now, and fully dried. He shuttered as memories of his death flashed in his usually fuzzy mind. He began softly scraping at one of the many dried handprints next to him with a claw, the stain didn’t budge in the slightest; it seemed to be as permanent as the wires and metal bits that had intertwined with his corpse. A soft sigh whispered out of whatever remained of his rotten lungs. He could adjust to the isolation, but he would _never_ be able to get used to the cracking and skittering sounds that would break the silence every time he moved. It was _disgusting_. It was disgusting to discover what was likely generations of cockroaches living in what used to be his gut, and that his eye sockets were empty, well except for a few maggots wriggling inside, attempting to get at what was left of his brains. He was tempted to itch as he felt the phantom legs of hundreds of ants crawl on him. He was happy the ants had left long ago, they were by far the worst of the creatures that had come and picked off of his body. He remembered watching in horror as the tiny ants scrambled up his freshly dead body. They marched in lines up his arms and legs and swarmed around his wounds. Time had taken many of his memories, but that would likely stick in his mind forever. 

The shuffle of shoes somewhere else in the building caught his attention. He sat up, eyes focused on the door; anticipating his friend’s entrance. It was a few months ago when they had stumbled upon him while exploring the location. He remembered the horrified and oddly excited expression on their face when he had looked up at them from his spot on the floor. He was surprised they didn’t just run away from him, at first he assumed it was simply stupidity, but it turned out to be a case of morbid curiosity. A crooked smile spread across his face. That was one of the few things they had in common; their shared interest in more, _morbid_ things. He humored them when they went on about their dorky little theories on serial killers and haunted buildings, he found it very amusing. He especially liked to hear their theories on him. He kept his identity a secret for a while, but decided there was really no reason to hide it, no one would believe them if they told anway. They had what seemed to be a million questions for him, but he only answered a few, he was a man of many secrets, that, and his memory was quite fuzzy in some places. The door squealed as his friend who was adorned in their usual eye catching, gaudy clothing entered, 

“SPRINGY!!! How ya’ been dude!?”, They exclaimed with a wide smile on their face. 

Their happy-go-lucky energy was admittedly contagious, Springtrap creaked and groaned as he attempted to pull himself off the ground. He decided to stay on the floor, there was really no point in standing anyway. 

“Erhg- good as a corpse can be, Vannie”, his voice struggled to reply. 

“Good! I brought you something.”, They exclaimed before digging into their Gir backpack for that something. The many keychains and buttons on the bag jingled. They pulled out a McDonalds bag and a faded old blanket. They plopped the blue blanket onto the floor, sat down, and began pulling food out of the paper bag. 

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know if you can like eat or not, but I didn’t want you to be left out on the snacking, so I guess it’s a picnic now,” Vannie rambled. 

They carefully avoided touching him as they passed him some fries and a bunch of napkins, which he somewhat reluctantly accepted. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate. He wasn’t even sure he could taste anymore, but he figured there would be no harm in trying. Springtrap noticed Vannie looking at him curiously. He picked a few fries out and tossed them into his mouth. He could vaguely taste the salt. It was a nice change from the usual taste of nothing in his mouth. He’d finished the fries a lot faster than he had anticipated, but was pleasantly surprised when Vannie pulled another container of fries out of the bag. 

“I got a backup fry just in case” They chimed, “ I bet it feels great to finally eat after all those years, huh?” They asked. 

“I suppose so,” the rabbit chuckled through a mouth full of fries. 

The two ate in a comfortable silence until Vannie pulled out a glittery journal that was covered in obnoxious looking stickers. They began jotting down notes for a while, only stopping to scribble down a small drawing on the corner of the page. While they were distracted with their doodling, Springtrap snatched the journal out of Vannie’s hands. 

“HEY-” Vannie barked. 

They reached out to snatch the journal back, but immediately jerked away when Springtrap attempted to push them away. While Vannie would get closer to him than most rational people would, they never made any actual contact because they thought he was disgusting. They had told him that pretty bluntly when he went in for a handshake the first time they’d met. Though Springtrap never pushed it, he couldn't exactly blame them for thinking he was gross, but he definitely did use it to his advantage at times. 

“Seriously dude!?” Vannie whined, clearly annoyed with him, “I bought you fries and had a cool little picnic with you, and this is how you treat ME, your _only_ friend?” They fussed. 

They weren’t that upset, only slightly annoyed considering this behavior was pretty expected from him. Vannie scowled at the animatronic and huffed. 

“Oh, quit your whining, I just wanted to see what _adorable_ little drawing you were making,” he mocked. 

“You could’ve just asked, you know?” Vannie began. They continued to mutter in an annoyed tone about boundaries, but Springtrap of course, wasn’t listening to a single word Vannie had to say. 

He held the journal out of reach and began reading the unsurprisingly messy handwriting on the page. There was nothing particularly interesting written on the page, just notes commenting that he was capable of eating and some theories on how that worked. What caught his eye was the drawing of him eating fries at the bottom of the page. It was fairly accurate, and drawn in a glittery dark blue ink. 

“Are you done yet, or do you need more time to sound the words out?” Vannie asked snarkily with an outstretched hand. 

Springtrap rolled his eyes and prepared to hand Vannie their precious journal back, but stopped mid motion to point at one of the tattoos on their arm, “I’ve seen that before...where’s it from” The rabbit asked with a quizzical look on his face.

Vannie’s eyebrows furrowed, not fully processing the question before they looked down at the tattoo of the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland on their wrist,

“Oh, it’s the uh... rabbit from Alice in Wonderland” they replied, no longer upset, just curious about his interest in the tattoo. 

“Ah! I remember that book,” he replied suddenly chipper, “It was my daughter’s favorite story, I used to read it to her all the time before….” his once excited demeanor suddenly died. He paused for a moment, his face scrunched into a very confused expression. 

“I don’t remember what happened to her” his tone was unreadable. 

Vannie felt a sting of pity for him. Yes, he was a serial killer who targeted children, but in their time as friends, Vannie couldn’t help but to begin to sympathize with him. They knew it was wrong, _really_ wrong actually, but they couldn’t help feeling just a _little_ bad for him, he had sympathized with them before, _right_? He even seemed genuinely sad for them when Vannie told him about being rejected by their parents, and listened to them vent plenty of times after without complaining. Vannie trusted that he still had some kind of humanity locked up in there. There had to be something left, right? No one’s completely evil. 

Vannie’s thoughts were interrupted when the rabbit tossed the glittery journal at them. They fumbled and barely caught the journal that now had greasy stains on the opened page. 

“Back from Wonderland?” He asked, slightly amused by their struggle. 

“Yeah... “ Vannie answered, still vaguely in thought. 

_There had to be something left , right?_

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
